


In Heat

by Elveny



Category: Final Fantasy XIV
Genre: Explicit Sexual Content, F/M, Female Miqo'te (Final Fantasy XIV), Friends to Lovers, Male Miqo'te (Final Fantasy XIV), Mating Cycles/In Heat, Miqo'te Headcanon (Final Fantasy XIV), Miqo'te Warrior of Light (Final Fantasy XIV), Original Character(s), Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Porn with Feelings, Tail Sex, Vaginal Fingering, Vaginal Sex, miqo'te in heat
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-11-12
Updated: 2020-11-12
Packaged: 2021-03-09 19:07:42
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,694
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27531244
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Elveny/pseuds/Elveny
Summary: What do you do when your friend goes into heat? You help out, of course.
Relationships: Miqo'te Characters/Warrior of Light (Final Fantasy XIV)
Comments: 2
Kudos: 37





	In Heat

“Did it help?”

M’ajah threw Eremia an annoyed look as she carefully put her bow away and threw the cape aside. He lounged on the sofa in what served as their Free Company’s living room and would’ve looked completely at ease were it not for the perpetual twitch in his tail that flicked across the floor. She did not know whether it was a reaction to her own restlessness or just his own mood, but it did nothing to calm her down; on the contrary.

“No,” she huffed and started to pace before she forced herself to sit down in one of the armchairs. “I’m still on edge.”

She had been restless for a few days already, barely able to concentrate on anything for more than a few minutes. Today, she had spent the whole day outside, trying to hunt. But it had not done much good. She still felt that crawling upon her skin, the urge to rub herself against everything and everyone, and it drove her up the walls.

“Did you get at least something for supper?” Eremia asked somewhat smug.

“No,” M’ajah snapped.

He seemed completely unbothered by her aggressiveness. To her irritation, he even smiled at her, a hint of fang behind his lips that made her want to bite him. Or have him bite her. The unbidden thought sent a shiver over her back, and she felt a low growl rise in her throat, her ears twitching.

With another annoyed sound, she jumped up again.

“I’m going to my room,” she murmured, not looking at him as she stalked past him towards the door that led to the private area.

“Ajah…” A hint of exasperation was in his voice, but M’ajah shook her head.

“It’s fine, Mia,” she just said and quickly left the room.

As soon as she was in her own room, she started to take off her boots, vambraces, and armor — anything that seemed to make her skin itch — until she was down to her tunic and leggings. Still restlessly pacing up and down, she started to undo the braid she had plaited for the hunt, raking both hands through her hair, unable to stand the feeling of it being restrained in any way.

Normally, at this time of her cycle, it was enough to get rid of all the pent-up energy by fighting and hunting and putting her own hands to good use. But this time? None of it seemed to help.

Maybe she should teleport to the Steppe and find a lonely place somewhere in the middle of nowhere to just _wait this out_. Or fling herself into the snow in Coerthas in a useless attempt to cool down.

She had even managed to pack a bag once or twice. But every time she started to get ready to teleport, she stopped again, her eyes fixed in the direction of wherever she knew Eremia was. She didn’t _want_ to leave. And yet, she found herself getting more and more tense and annoyed when she was in the same room with him. It drove her near mad.

There were clear rules for those times when a Miqo’te went into heat, even M'ajah, who grew up far away from a tribe, knew them. If a Miqo'te in heat had no lover she could or wanted to take, she would seek solitude and take care of herself or find relief in physical exertion. And if she had someone she wanted to take into her bed, she could signal her interest but had to wait until her chosen person would approach her. For all the physical need and heightened senses, consent was imperative, and a partner feeling obligated to do something they might not want might find them resenting the other afterward. And that was a thought M’ajah could stand even less than the feverish burning of her body and the demanding throb between her legs. 

Eremia and she had been flirting for a while, had been friends for longer. There had been one memorable evening not too long ago that had ended with them passionately making out — and being rudely interrupted by an urgent summoning by Papalymo to help in the Black Shroud. So when she had felt the first tell-tale signs of her heat, M’ajah had made a conscious decision to stay close to Eremia. She knew he had noticed what was going on, and so she had made sure that she provided him with ample opportunity to come to her.

Except, he didn’t.

Every hour she spent in his proximity stoked the flames inside her even more until she felt she might lose control with the next touch. And still, he stayed away. He had not left, on the contrary, he seemed to be ever close, but he had not taken a single step towards her. It was beyond frustrating.

M’ajah let out a low groan as she raked both hands through her hair. She needed to face it, he obviously had no interest in her anymore. Or at least not in this state. Maybe the snow in Coerthas was really the best idea.

Just at that moment, a short knock made her pause in her pacing. Before she could answer, though, the door opened, and Eremia came in. Without saying a word, he locked the door behind him and turned back to her, his ears twitching, nostrils flaring. The intensity of his gaze sent another shiver down her back, and M’ajah felt the hairs in her neck rise as she took a shuddering breath. She would have sworn that she could taste him on the very air, and suddenly, her knees felt weak.

“Wha-” she started, but he interrupted her immediately.

“Can you stop doing that?” he asked, taking a step toward her with a flick of his tail. “Circling me, teasing me, and then drop me again?”

“I’m not…” M’ajah started weakly, retreating a half-step back as he came closer until her back hit the wall. Her heart beat hard in her chest, heat flaring inside her as she saw his eyes narrow, the tip of his tongue darting out to wet his lips. Her own lips parted as she stared at his mouth before she caught herself, a blush crawling into her cheeks.

“You are,” he murmured, his voice dropping into something like a growl, and M’ajah had to keep herself from just throwing herself at him as he closed the last distance between them. He was so close that she could feel the heat coming from his body, and a full-body shiver ran over her that she could not hide in the least. Eremia gave her a heated look. “I can _smell_ you, I can _sense_ your discomfort and your need, and yet, you run away from me. Why?”

M’ajah’s breath was shuddering, and she found it hard to think clearly with him being so close to her. Balling her fingers into a fist until she felt her nails cutting into her palm, she shook her head. This was torture. Eremia’s proximity, his scent, the heat from this body in combination with the way he looked at her with barely veiled desire made the throbbing between her legs nearly unbearable. M’ajah quickly closed her eyes, pushing weakly at his shoulder until he took a step back and she felt like she could breathe again.

“You don’t want…” she started in a clipped voice before she broke off and bit her lip hard enough to taste blood.

“I don’t want — what? You?” There was a hint of disbelief in his voice. “What by the Twelve made you think that?”

A sound not quite a hiss came from her lips as she shot him a sharp look, garnering every shred of willpower she still had. “I have waited! You haven’t made a single move towards me yet. And I’m not about to throw myself at you when you might feel obligated to do something you don’t want just because…” Again, she bit her lip. _Just because she was slowly feeling like she was going insane with need._ “I told you, I’m fine. I can take care of myself.”

The way he perked up at her words made her nearly regret them immediately, his gaze like a touch upon her burning body as it wandered over her. “Ajah, ‘tis I who has waited,” he said roughly. “I will not offer myself while you might not be able to decline. It is only prudent to wait for you to make the first move.”

She stared at him for a moment as his words slowly started to make sense. “Keeper of the Moon,” she whispered. _Of course._ The Keepers were matriarchal, of course he wouldn't take the initiative when he expected her to take the lead. “I forgot. My mother said it was… different for you.” A sudden flicker of hope rose inside her that immediately flared over her whole body with needy anticipation. The flush on her face deepened as she finally dared to fully look into Eremia’s face. “And I thought…”

He wore an open expression of relief and desire, and when he came close again, she didn’t push him back. “Ajah, _please,_ let me take care of you,” he murmured, his hand coming up to cradle her cheek.

M’ajah immediately turned her face into his caress, a low purr of pleasure coming from her lips. The simple touch alone was nearly enough to shatter her last coherent thoughts, proof of just how pent-up she was. “Yes,” she still managed to say before she threw all remaining restraint aside and kissed him.

It could have been tender, but the moment their lips touched, all M’ajah could think was ' _more'._ Eremia pulled her close as he kissed her, the feeling of his body pressed against her blissful and maddening, but it was just _not enough._ Every touch on her oversensitive skin seemed to burn, even the rustle of the fabric of her tunic as he pulled it off her making her itch for more. And his hands, _Twelve,_ his blessed hands and touches, but not moving fast enough, not holding her tight enough. She urged against him, pulling at his clothes with an eagerness that quickly turned into annoyance when they wouldn't give immediately.

A sharp hiss came from Eremia as she bit his lip, a hint of copper to the taste of him, and she trailed after him as he pulled back slightly, wiping his thumb over his mouth. His eyes were dark as they flickered back to her, nearly wild, and his smile was full of promise. M’ajah took the opportunity to yank his shirt up and over his head, her tongue following her hands over his skin as she moved against him, trying to get as much contact as possible. It was the strangest feeling, the mix of carnal need to have him _right now_ and the desire to explore every ilm of him. She could feel his arousal even through his pants, making her quiver in anticipation and need, and every swipe of her tongue, every inhale of his scent just added to her own desire.

A low growl came from deep in his chest, and the next moment, M’ajah let out a small yelp that quickly turned into a moan as he wrapped his hand in her hair, pulling her head back with a sharp tug, and claimed her mouth with his again. His kiss was demanding and hard and utterly overwhelming, and a low moan was shared between them as he pushed her back against the wall. The stone was cold against her feverish skin, but she barely noticed it. Eremia’s hand found her breast, fingers closing around her taut nipple, mercilessly teasing her. The touch raced through her whole body, and she arched into his hand, her head falling back with a low _thud_ , her fingers scratching over his skin as she tried to pull him even closer.

“Mia, please, I need… I need more, please, _please,_ ” she whimpered, her hands mindlessly running down his body to fumble at his breeches with fleeting fingers. Eremia grabbed her wrists and pulled them off him, placing her arms around his neck as he kissed her again.

“I got you,” he mumbled, and his voice was rough and full of promise.

The next moment, she felt him pull down her pants, just enough so he could comfortably sink his hand between her legs. He was still kissing her when his fingers found her already sopping wet, and the first brush over her clit was nearly enough to send her over the edge.

M’ajah nearly forgot to breathe as her whole being seemed to shrink to the point where he was touching her, fingers circling her most sensitive spot with sweet teasing. Her tail curled around his wrist, and the appreciative groan coming from Eremia’s chest as she shook beneath his touch sent a streak of heat through her. Just then, he sank two fingers into her with ease, his thumb pressing down on her clit, and with sudden intensity, the desire that had curled more and more tightly with each touch exploded through her and she came with a sharp outcry.

Eremia held her tight as she shivered in his arms. She could feel his teeth scraping over her neck as he tasted her racing pulse, vaguely aware that he freed her from her remaining clothes. But it was still not enough, the fire in her veins still raging, and as she inhaled his scent deeply, trailing her lips from his shoulder to his ear, feeling his skin beneath her hands, she thought it might never be enough.

At first, M’ajah wasn’t even aware that she kept murmuring Eremia’s name as she urged against him, half plea, half demand. It was only when he snarled, sinking his teeth into the soft flesh at the junction of her shoulder and neck, causing her voice to break in a soft wail that she realized how much she had lost herself in his touches already. But the sharp pain only heightened the pleasure that shot through her the next second as Eremia positioned her just like he wanted her and she felt him breach her with one deep thrust.

She clawed at his shoulder, actually _clawed_ at him, at the sensations running through her as he started to move with a low, deep-throated groan. It was nothing like anything she had felt before. Eremia had her pressed against the wall in a way that barely allowed her any movement to meet his fast, hard thrusts. This was more than she wanted, it was what she _needed._ She had no idea anymore where she ended and he began, and the sounds falling from her lips were unrestrained and desperate as her release was nearly within reach. M’ajah squirmed against him in a try to get more friction, and suddenly, his hands on her tightened, holding her absolutely still.

“No, no, please, I need-,” she whined, but a low growl from Eremia shut her up again.

“Hold fast,” he ordered in a voice that allowed no objection — not that she would have wanted to. Her eyes were clouded with desire as she looked at him, arms and legs locked around him, and then he moved them without pulling out of her. It was only a few steps to her bed and a low whimper fell from her lips as he placed her upon it, the cool softness of the bed a sharp contrast to the hard wall. It was nearly too much upon her heated skin, too soft, overwhelmingly so, and she writhed beneath him.

Eremia seemed to sense what was going on, and when he grabbed her wrists and pulled her hands above her head, there was no softness in his grip.

“What do you need, Ajah?” Eremia asked, his voice rough and his eyes dark with lust as he looked down at her. He was still holding maddeningly still, just tiny movements of his hips keeping her riled up. She was close as he rubbed over her clit with tiny, deliberate rolls of his hips, her whole body shivering, and yet, it was not enough and too much at the same time. But Eremia did not let up. The snarl was back in his voice as he demanded, “Tell me.”

The words rushed out of her, nearly stumbling over each other. “You, I need you, your teeth, your… you, gods, please, please, plea-”

A sharp thrust made her arch against him as heat rushed through her, but then he stopped again, and a moan that was close to a sob fell from her lips as her release was ripped from her again.

“More,” Eremia growled, his fingers tightening around her wrists as she uselessly tried to grab him.

“Please, Mia,” M’ajah begged, every word chased by a whimper, “please, I need you to fuck me, please, and I need you to mark me, and I need you, gods, I need you, and I need you to make me…” She broke off with a whine as he moved against her, _in_ her. The words had come before she could think about what they meant, heat blossoming deep inside her chest with a fiery intensity that was even more blinding than the desire coursing through her. For a moment, her breath caught in realization, but another deep thrust shattered her thoughts nearly immediately again.

“Make you what?” Eremia demanded, his eyes burning into hers as he leaned over her, seemingly barely able to hold himself back.

M’ajah sucked in a shuddering breath, her whole body tensing underneath his as she held his gaze. “Make me yours,” she murmured, a quiver to her voice when his eyes widened in understanding. For a moment, they just looked at each other, but the burning inside M’ajah was quickly drowning out everything but the sensation of _him,_ and she felt that if he wouldn’t move soon, she’d go mad _._ “Now, _please!”_

He lowered his mouth back onto her and the moment he snapped his hips forward again, he sank his teeth into her skin, and the sound wringing from M’ajah’s throat was ecstatic and loud, matched by his deep moan. Eremia no longer held back, setting a fast, hard pace as he buried himself into her, and M’ajah didn’t know whether it was the sweet sting of his teeth on her skin or the feeling of him hitting a spot somewhere inside over and over again that made the heat inside her surge.

It was only when his hand was back on her breast that she realized in a very far corner of her mind that he had let go of her wrists, and immediately, she wrapped her arms around him to draw him even closer, unwilling to have even the faintest distance between them. Nothing mattered anymore but him, nothing but the wet sound of flesh on flesh, the vibrating growl deep in his chest, the feeling of his touches and thrusts as he brought her over the brink once more.

Her moans broke on his name as she came undone in his arms, lips pressed to his skin. Eremia answered her by lifting her hips and pulling his knees underneath him, changing the angle of his thrusts as he continued to push into her. 

“Again,” he groaned, his fingers coming to stroke her clit in time with the punishing movement of his hips. She writhed helplessly under his caresses, clenching around him with mindless sounds falling from her lips and heated shivers running through her as he coaxed her towards another orgasm. “Ajah, come for me.”

Her eyes were wide and dark, her lips parted as she looked up at him. The way he clenched his teeth as he watched her told her that he was close, too. His dark skin shimmered with sweat, his silver hair falling wild around his face, and there were streaks and bite marks on his torso she didn’t remember leaving. M’ajah reached for him in a wordless plea, and he indulged her, leaning down to kiss her. The taste of him on her tongue was the last push she needed and the desperate little sounds rising from inside her as she peaked again were swallowed by his kiss. She was still quivering around him as his rhythm stumbled and he came with a dark growl, spilling himself inside her with a last deep thrust.

It took M’ajah a while to regain some semblance of coherent thought, her breath still ragged and fast as she held Eremia in her arms while they came down from their high. Eventually, he carefully slipped out of her and lay down next to her, and M’ajah immediately curled up into his embrace with a soft purr. She felt utterly unable to move, her body warm and limp, sore in the best way, and for the first time in days blissfully sated.

“Thank you,” she whispered drowsily against his neck, her lips trailing over his skin, her purring intensifying at his soft touches.

A short, nearly disbelieving chuckle came from him and his arm around her tightened. “No need to thank me, believe me,” he murmured, his tail intertwining with hers.

She just mumbled something indecipherable, eyes half-closed, and a smile on her face. For a few minutes, neither of them said anything, their frenzied love-making replaced by soft and content caresses. 

M’ajah was already half-asleep, when Eremia said softly into her hair, “You smell different.”

“Hm?” she hummed, blinking up at him. 

He smiled slightly, his fingers touching her lips before he lifted her chin with his thumb and brushed his lips over hers, not quite kissing her. “Yes,” he said quietly. “You smell like you’re mine.”

For a second, she stilled, all drowsiness falling from her as her eyes widened. “I am,” she admitted eventually, her heart in her throat.

Eremia’s smile deepened. “As I am yours,” he replied in a soft voice and kissed her, and the giddy happiness surging through her at his words was nearly blinding as she lost herself in his embrace.


End file.
